


Shining All Over

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Established Relationship, M/M, Redemption, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When was the last time you felt the light?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“The sunlight I mean. When was the last time you’ve seen it?”</p><p>“I don’t remember.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shining All Over

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from [here](http://violentwavesofemotion.tumblr.com/post/139289466602/it-is-late-now-i-am-a-bit-tired-the-sky-is)
> 
> if anyone wants to ask me a question or just throw a shovel at me, you can always get hold of me on [tumblr](http://beeeeebeeee.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ps. congrats for actually clicking on this and not scrolling past thinking "pffftt just another execution fic" because that's what i would do

“When was the last time you felt the light?”

“Hm?”

“The sunlight I mean. When was the last time you’ve seen it?”

“I don’t remember.”

It has been months, almost a year since General Hux was captured by the Resistance and Kylo Ren defected from the First Order to the rebels. They took Ren with reluctance and suspicion to his passivity but not with fear; after the fall of _Starkiller_ base Ren’s influence had fallen away from the Galaxy as he crept into the shadows, ashamed of his failure.

It took them a while to begin to trust Ren but they could never forgive him. To gain their confidence, Ren offered them information, its value beyond anything they could dream of. Eventually, they allowed him into their crowds, allowed him to speak amongst them.

Eventually, even his mother began speaking to him again, calling him ‘Ben’.

Of course, Ren knows that he can never believe himself to that boy anymore, but he understands that survival means changing to the winning side. Hux understands that too, and he never dares to call him ‘traitor’; he knows better.

For Hux, being captured by the Resistance meant battle, not submission. He fought as they dragged him through the corridors of the rebel base, offering them no ease in his capture. He refused to give information, preferring to bite his tongue than give it freely.

After the passing of many months, eventually, the information began to trickle from between Hux’s lips. Ren wasn’t there to see what caused the break; they weren’t allowed near each other.

At first, what he gave was of little worth but as the information continued to flow the boundaries of his restraint loosened and expanded. However, freedom still remains only a brief taste on Hux’s tongue.

They allow Ren to visit Hux in brief intervals now and the cuffs are no longer the permanent presence on his bruised wrists.

“Maybe I could ask for someone to escort you outside, for a little while,” says Ren, eyes fixed on Hux across the table beneath the single light.

“There is no use, is there?” smirks Hux. “I may as well deal with what I have.”

Though what Hux has given to the Resistance is beyond value, the sentence on his neck has not been dismissed. They will keep him until the end of the war, until his worth expires and then— and then they will give him what a warmonger deserves, what a man who is responsible for billions of deaths deserves.

“I am one foot on the other side, aren’t I?”

And he looks it; though Hux has not been mistreated despite of who he is, he appears as if life has been washed out of him: his skin looks as ashen as the grey prisoner uniform, his hair is overgrown and lank with grease from never having the chance to scrub it out. But it’s Hux’s eyes that scare Kylo the most because they look as if they have been replaced with scratched, dull glass.

They were once so bright, as if they could outshine any star with their viciousness and ambition. One look from them felt like an intake of cold, searing air.

What Ren sees before him now, it’s not Hux; this man has forgotten how to fight – there is no life in him. He is just a poor reflection of what he used to be but Ren can’t lose his hope of seeing Hux again.

“It doesn’t mean you should suffer in the dark,” Ren offers.

“But maybe I should.” Hux lays his hands on the table and when he curls them into fists the skin tightens on his knuckles as if it’s about to snap.

Ren wants to reach out and soothe those hands, to take away the tension that shakes the fragile bones. But he doesn’t; they are not allowed to touch if they want to remain on their best behaviour and win another hour of freedom.

Once, it wasn’t like this, once they took what they wished without asking for permission. As Hux once phrased it when Ren asked if it was dangerous what they were doing: “We are in the middle of a war, nobody cares who fucks who.”

It’s so different now. When they saw each other for the first time after the capture they tried to slip their hands into each other’s, but the guards almost put a blaster bolt through Ren. They assume that everyone fears they will pass along messages and somehow cause an uprising amongst the defected soldiers of the First Order.

The guards don’t know about the ways of the Force, but that is maintained too. There is no way for them to communicate other than the words others hear.

The door into the room opens and a guard looks inside. “General Organa wants to see you,” they to say to Ren.

Ren frowns but nods and stands.

“I will be back soon,” he says to Hux, placing his hand on the table as if to reach. Hux nods, not looking up, his own hand flexing but he does not return the gesture.

Ren leaves the room and swiftly walks through the corridors, pulling on the string of the General’s consciousness in order to locate her in the base. The guards don’t follow him or they have fallen back due to his pace.

As Ren leaves the prison complex the rushing masses flood around him, the people parting only to watch him go, the eyes skirting on his back. Even after months of being present at the base, the stares trail after Ren, unashamed and angered. Ren does nothing to stop them.

He finds the General in a command room before a holo-projection of schematics, surrounded by her officers. They eye him as he approaches and carefully steps in beside Leia, the attention drawn away from her to another officer.

Ren sees her tense physically before turning to face him.

“You wanted to speak to me?” he asks.

Leia looks at him in confusion. “Yes, I was going to meet you outside the cell after you finished speaking.” She pauses, eyebrows draw together. “Who told you I—.”

There is a tremble in the air that interrupts her words. 

It is as faint as a ripple from a pebble being dropped into still water. But it causes a wave, so rapid and so great it threatens to overturn everything and drown it. A thunderclap crests it, something so terrible it makes Ren lose his breath and his heart beat in fear.

A scream breaks.

It makes the air ring, searing it like lightning.

Ren wants to collapse and cry in pain from the sound but his body is frozen.

And then it’s all over. There is silence and only a ghost of the ringing.

Leia looks at Ren with fear in her eyes – she has heard it too and felt the wild disturbance. But nobody else seems to have, they have been oblivious to the pain.

Ren is about to ask what it was but then it all falls together and he is running through the corridors.

It doesn’t take him long to reach the cell. He doesn’t need to look inside to know what has happened.

The blood has flown out into the corridor, flooding the floors in glistening rivers of red.

 

The funeral is only a small ceremony, carried out by a scarce number of officers who were still loyal to Hux. They gather around the pyre arranged in a clearing amongst the woods, solemn in the darkness. Ren is the one who lights it but says nothing as he stands aside from the fire.

At least, they allowed him this: a funeral deserving of a General.

 

The war is won.

There was the beginning and end and everything in between felt like a lightning storm that blinded all before the twilight fell again.

Ren’s mind aches from trying to remember what happened between then and now. He fears he can’t even remember how he came to stand here, on the thick green grass beneath the trees flooded by the golden light of a sun, surrounded by the masses of the Resistance.

They have gathered in their numbers to hear the General speak as she stands over them, her small figure almost lost amongst the rising walls of the base. But her voice is clear and bright, echoing through all their minds. Ren feels it but he cannot capture the words.

He does not want to be there; he has no interest in the speeches but his mother asked him to come and listen, even just for a moment.

So Ren stands where the crowds begin to thin and the trees envelop the green fields. The sun falls over him through the gaps in the branches in lazy warmth, brushing over Ren’s cloaked back and the hood that hides his face.

Though he knows he is undeserving of the peace, Ren allows himself to enjoy the silence in his head.

There is a brush against Ren’s arm that lifts him out of the thoughts. He ignores it at first but there is a flicker of colour and light before him that fills his vision and makes his mind reel.

There is a man standing in front of him, smiling and holding out his hand. He wears a white tunic and dark trousers, a belt is secured around his waist and his feet are bare. And his hair— it’s like fire, the heart of a red giant and the surface of a dune.

The man steps away from Ren, hand still held out, and the sunlight catches on his skin - it’s not sallow and grey but struck with a dusting of freckles and a faint glow from walking beneath the sun. His hair is long now and his face is not clean shaven, there are no creases from frowning too often – as if he has been born again.

It’s Hux and he is shining all over.

He turns and walks away, weaving in between the standing audience. Ren knows he shouldn’t but he follows, eyes locked on the retreating back, uncaring as he shoves past the standing people.

Hux is too quick for Ren to catch him, his light footsteps carrying him ahead. Suddenly, he turns to look back as he walks, smiling widely when he sees that Ren has followed and waves him on as if to say “closer, closer”.

There is still a distance between them as they find themselves amongst the thickening crowds. Hux halts and reaches out his hand, smiling in the bright midday light. There is life in his eyes that glow as if there is starlight behind them.

Ren knows he shouldn’t but he reaches out as scant feet remain between them.

His hand meets empty air.

He blinks and Hux is gone.

He stands alone in the crowds where nobody looks to him. There is a voice echoing overhead and sunlight pours over him but Ren feels nothing.

It wasn’t Hux, Ren knows that, because Hux never smiled and his skin was pale and cold as snow while his eyes glowed with the absence of joy.

And yet, Ren will hold onto that vision when the light struck red.

 

 

 

 


End file.
